


Dumbledore Finally Gets His

by Titti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Challenge Response, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-15
Updated: 2005-07-15
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: Voldemort gets his revenge.





	Dumbledore Finally Gets His

**Author's Note:**

> This is Chapter 34 of Nimori's Harry Potter and the Half-Baked Patchwork Fic ( http://www.livejournal.com/users/nimori/169103.html

Dumbledore had taken the book before Harry could touch it. Divination, experience, or general mistrust he didn't know, but something had told him that the book was a danger, and when his fingers felt the leather beneath them, he felt the pull of a Portkey.

He arrived in a dark room. Carefully, he reached for his wand, but before the magical object could be in his hand, he heard a noise.

"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort waited in the shadow, eyes glaring in the dark, and Dubmledore's wand in his left hand. "Getting old, aren't you? I would have never been able to disarm you so easily during the first War, but now...you're slipping."

"But it matters not, Tom. I've done what I needed to: protect Harry. I don't care what you do with me." Dumbledore stood proudly, facing the Dark wizard without fear.

Voldemort laughed darkly, his voice resonating in the cavernous room like the shriek of a bat in a cave. "That book was never meant for Potter, although killing the boy would have been a pleasant addendum to the night." He shook his head, his venomous smile still on his face. "No, the book was for you."

"I don't know what you have planned now, but I'm not afraid of you." Dumbledore took a few steps, looking at the other wizard menacingly. "Why are you waiting, Tom? You want to kill me, then do it. In the end, my death won't help you; Harry will destroy you."

"Tsk, tsk, sending a boy to do your job, that's so very like you," Voldemort said sarcastically. "You've always been good at convincing people to fight for you. Well, there isn't anyone here. No Potter, father or son, no Longbottoms, no Black. No one." 

He flickered his wand toward the older wizard, casting a Blasting spell. Dumbledore flew across the room, landing on the floor, gliding on the marble floor until a chest broke his movement. "Don't get up on my account," Voldemort said as he walked closer. 

With precise movements, thin, snake-like ropes appeared from Voldemort's wand. They moved through the air, before wrapping around Dumbledore's wrists. The free ends reached to the ceiling, hooking in rings. With careful wand movements, Voldemort pulled the rope, forcing the headmaster to stand up, hands above his head. Voldemort stood behind the old man, looking at the free-standing mirror in front of them. He sighed. "All too easy. I thought you'd at least try to fight me."

"You're making no sense. Stop this farce at once," Dumbledore commanded, but inside he wasn't as confident as he was trying to sound. Tom was obviously imbalanced, this was more than his quest for power, this felt wrong in ways that death could never feel.

Voldemort leaned closer, his fingers digging into Dumbledore's shoulder, while his nails left half moon signs on the headmaster's skin. "You don't get to give orders anymore, Professor," Voldemort spat out the last word, showing all of his contempt. "No, Dumbledore, I'm in charge here, and we'll play a game, more like an experiment. Right after Black died, and poor Potter was so distraught, you told me that there are things worse than death. Do you remember? I was thinking that maybe for once, you were right, but I'm not sure. I decided that we should test your hypothesis."

"You wouldn't understand, Tom. You never did." Dumbledore's voice was filled with regret. He had had the opportunity to help Tom, but he had turned his back on the Slytherin.

"Oh, but I do." Voldemort pressed his cheek against Dumbledore's face, his lips brushing the headmaster's ear. "You're willing to die for some noble cause, but not being in control that's what really kills you. You wanted to make the decisions long before you became headmaster. You wanted to decide the future of Hogwarts' student. You never could stand that the Slytherins made their own choices. That's why you hate them, even if you won't admit it. You like to play the benevolent God, who grants peace and prosperity to his faithful followers, but you're not God. You are the humble servant now, and I'm God. I make the decisions now."

Dumbledore took a deep breath, trying to find a way to reason with a man who had obviously lost his mind, but in the end, the words failed him. "Do what you wish, Tom, but I shall never do what you say."

"The beauty is that you don't have a choice. I shan't ask or reason. I will do what I please, because I can, and you will hate every moment of him. You'll hate me." He shifted, pressing his cock against Dumbledore's arse, while he levitated the purple robe the headmaster was wearing until it pooled at the headmaster's waist. Then he pushed down Dumbledore's underwear to the floor. Voldemort stood there, scrutinising the older man. "We should immortalise this moment, send one of those Muggle photograph to the Daily Prophet. What do you think?"

For the first time in his life, Dumbledore felt fear. Not the sense of trepidation that he had felt when facing Dark lords, but utter panic. Tom couldn't, wouldn't... it was all so senseless, but then nothing Tom did made sense. "Tom, stop this." He was impressed with himself and his ability to keep his voice steady, but Tom wasn't listening.

Dumbledore closed his eyes when he felt the magic assault his body before two fingers penetrated him. Slow and gently they moved in a mockery of what lovemaking should be. "Tom, please..." <I>Keep repeating his name, hope that you can reach him, that you can make him reason</I>, he told himself.

"Open your eyes," Voldemort said teasingly. "You don't want to miss the fun," he added in a cold voice. "I can make it much, much worse for your little pets if you don't obey."

Dumbledore opened his eyes, blue and red meeting in the mirror, in a silent battle, but Voldemort only laughed. "Now you really want to kill me, don't you? Maybe you're regretting not having done it when you had the chance."

"I would never kill Harry," Dumbledore spat back.

"Yes, you would," Voldemort said condescendingly, "but let's not dwell on it. We have much more... pleasurable things to do." He unbuttoned and parted his own robe. He pressed his cock inside the resisting body; the fear in Dumbledore's eyes was the best aphrodisiac of them all. 

This was not about sex, but about power, and proving a point, and watching Dumbledore suffer, the headmaster knew that all too well. He wasn't surprised when Voldemort cast a new spell, and he was rock hard, humping the air in the hope of release. "Tom...." He bit his lip. He would not ask for anything; he would not.

Dark laughter assaulted Dumbledore just as scaly fingers wrapped his cock, and he couldn't help but sag back against Voldemort's body. For the first time in his life, he wished for death, but he wasn't so lucky. Instead Voldemort continued to pump his cock until he came spurting on the man's hand. Only then he grabbed Dumbledore's hips, pushing in and out with brutal speed, until he grunted his release.

Dumbledore waited silently, expecting the killing curse at any moment. Instead, Voldemort released the ropes, and the headmaster slumped on the floor. 

"This will take you back to Hogwarts," Voldemort said, throwing an old sock on the floor. "Next time, you want to fuck with someone, remember tonight. Oh, and next time I see you, I will kill you."

Dumbledore grabbed the sock and felt the pull of the Portkey. When he reached his room, he fell in his bed, but sleep would be a long time in coming. One thing for certain, next time they met one of them would die.


End file.
